


Doubts

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1642094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alanna needs to learn not to doubt the gods when they come bearing allies</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doubts

**Author's Note:**

> my thanks to  <lj user="ilyena_sylph"> for the beta, and to both <lj user="merfilly"> and <lj user="ilyena_sylph"> for the support when I was flailing in panic.
> 
> Written for par avion

 

 

Alanna reined Darkmoon in at the top of a small hill and glanced up at the crescent of moon in the sky, and then past it to the constellation known as `the Cat.' She missed Faithful's guidance at times like this, even years after his death. Pulling her gaze from the stars and her thoughts from the past, she looked down at the trees that hid the target she and a company of the Queen's Riders had been assigned to 'deal with;' if the target actually existed.

She was still unsure of the new allies that Tortall had gained since Veralidaine Sarrasri had returned from Fief Dunlath. Ogres, centaurs, basilisk, and spidren; all of them creatures from myth and history. Raiders and pirates Alanna could - and very often did - fight, but these new enemies and allies made her skin crawl. And then there was this new ally, the inky black blob wrapped around the horn of Darkmoon's saddle, told them that a camp of Scanrans and Immortals were camped out in a pocket valley hidden by trees. It had frustrated her no end when they could not figure out how Ozorne and his armies had always known their positions, and now the very creatures that had been spying on them were supposedly changing sides? She didn't trust the creature.

Even with the reassurance of the Badger God, she didn't trust it. A creature born of evil magic and bound by blood was a dangerous creature - and even gods could make mistakes. She just hoped this wouldn't be one of those mistakes, even as she prepared to deal with it if it turned out to be one.

Taking a deep, calming breath the Lioness signaled the Queen's Riders to follow, and then kneed Darkmoon forward, down the hill and into the deeper darkness of the trees. As Darkmoon picked his way through the darkness, Alanna touched the glowing gem at her throat. Its warm weight calmed her further, and she was able to turn her mind more fully to the fight she expected ahead. The Goddess would be with them all, this night, odd allies and enemies aside.

The dim light of banked fires made the last few feet to the tree line easier, and gave Alanna a chance to get a rough count of bodies in the pocket valley. More than forty and not all of them human, by the shape of the shadows they cast.

"It looks like you were right..." she whispered to the darking on the saddle horn just before she urged Darkmoon to leap forward with a battle cry.

Startled cries of warning rang out through the valley as Alanna lead the Rider group out of the trees and into the camp. Men in Scanran colors tumbled out of their tents with weapons in hand and sleep still in their eyes. Though on one level it bothered Alanna to attack sleeping men, she knew that this lot was - according to her darking - in position to box in the relief forces heading to Port Legann. When it came to giving raiders a fair fight or saving the lives of her countrymen, friends and Queen, she would attack raiders in their camp.

A man with a pike leapt forward, trying to catch Alanna's armor and drag her from Darkmoon's back, but before he could hook her Darkmoon reared, hooves flailing in the man's face. He dropped his pike and dodged away from the stallion's iron-shod hooves, leaving himself open to Alanna's sword. She dispatched him and then wheeled Darkmoon around as movement caught her attention. A shaggy centaur in poorly made leather armor charged towards her, sword held in both hands so that he could bring it down on her head or Darkmoon's neck. She clung to the saddle with her legs as Darkmoon jumped sideways and snapped at the centaur's rump with his teeth.

Heat flashed at Alanna's throat in warning as the centaur started laughing, and Darkmoon squealed in rage and pain when a club struck his rump. The golden stallion leapt forward, stumbling slightly and Alanna threw herself from his saddle to turn and face the new threat. The centaur was still laughing as he circled her, forcing her to split her attention between him and the ogre that had nearly crippled Darkmoon. The ogre swung its club at her head and she raised her shield to protect herself, still trying to keep an eye on the centaur at her back as the blow to her shield nearly knocked her to the ground. Thundering hooves, the shrill trumpeting of an angry stallion and the sound of heavy bodies colliding told Alanna that someone had come to her aid, allowing her to focus on the ogre trying to kill her.

She took a step back to brace against the second incoming blow of the ogre's club, the heel of her boot catching on something. Before she could move to better footing the ogre attacked, the blow knocking her backwards enough that the obstacle at her heels made her lose her balance. She hit the ground beside a dead centaur - it had been his arm she'd tripped on - but the ogre was approaching too fast for her to roll aside and get back to her feet before it was on her. Hoping that Jonathan would explain her death to George, she raised her shield and gripped her sword, thankful that she'd managed to keep a hand on it - a chance to attack might still exist.

Ready to join the Goddess and Faithful, Alanna was startled into spluttering in surprise when her attacker dropped its club and started clawing at its face. Strong teeth gripped the back of her tunic and pulled her over the body of the dead centaur as the ogre staggered blindly, still clawing at its face. Safely away from the feet of the ogre her tunic was released and she climbed to her feet. Darkmoon snorted as she stood, and she was relieved to see that the stallion was still alive - and that his tack was still intact enough for her to hang her shield on the horn of his saddle.

The lack of darking on the saddle didn't surprise her all that much - she'd wondered if the little spy would turn tail and flee back to its master when it realized that the Lioness and the Riders were winning. She scanned the battlefield to see how the Rider Group was faring even as she searched for the ogre that had stumbled off when it could have killed her, and she spotted the creature as it careened into a tent and fell to the ground, tangled in canvas.

Before it could free itself she rushed across the space between where Darkmoon had released her and where the ogre thrashed weakly. In it's twisting she caught a glimpse of something shadowy covering the ogre's face. Pushing the observation from mind she crossed the last few feet and brought her sword down on its neck, severing its spinal cord and putting an end to the weak thrashing. Raising her sword into a low guard in the event that there were still men to fight, she again scanned the battlefield. It had been a complete rout - bodies lay everywhere, nearly all of them dead Immortals or men in Scanran colors.

A Rider moved among the bodies, checking for survivors, while several of the others kept guard over the men who had surrendered. Darkmoon limped to her side and whickered softly, dropping his head against her shoulder for a moment before looking at the downed ogre with his ears pricked forward.

Expecting an attack, Alanna turned, only to watch as the darking she'd thought to have abandoned them oozed away from the ogre's face. It squeaked softly as it finally pulled completely away from the ogre, and when Alanna bent down to collect it from the ground, she realized that the impressions she could see on its surface were from the ogre's broken teeth. The darking had suffocated the ogre; that was what it had been clawing at when it had turned from her even though she was down and rather defenseless.

Startled but grateful, Alanna picked the darking up and brought it closer to her face. "Thank you."

The darking stretched until it had something resembling a head, and a split formed to squeak, "Wel-com."

"You talk..." Alanna shook her head faintly. "I should know better by now than to doubt the gods."

"Yes," the darking chirped, before flowing down her arm and into one of her belt pouches, where it remained for the rest of the night.

 


End file.
